Picture
by Mightily Mousey
Summary: The picture a perfect family torn apart. G1, ProwlxJazz, Bluestreak, AU. Betaed by Okami Myrrhibis
1. Chapter 1: Certainty

Title: Picture

Chapter: Ch. 1 - Certainty

Author: SBX

Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Optimus Prime

Pairings: ProwlxJazz

Rating: PG

Warnings: AU, angst-fest ahead

Disclaimer: No character used in this story belongs to me. 

Summary: The picture of a perfect family torn apart.

A/N: G1 fic. Totally inspired by vejiraziel's pic here. I blame her for all of this. And somehow, someway, I'm going to try to incorporate this crack idea into the cartoon's normal timeline. Let's see how well I do. :D

* * *

Bluestreak dodged through the crowds, using his small size to squeeze through tight spaces. He ignored the odd looks his presence gained as his optics scanned the crowds of Autobot warriors. Finally he spotted his goal and sprinted towards them, ignoring the indignant, angry cries as he shoved past mechs twice his size.

"Father! Dad!"

Prowl and Jazz looked up from their briefing with Optimus Prime at the sound of the familiar voice, just in time for Bluestreak to fling himself into the tactician's arms, toppling them both over into the saboteur's. Jazz barely managed to keep them all from landing in a heap on the ground.

The little youngling giggled, clinging to his father as his tiny door wings fluttered in excitement. Prowl gave him a stern look as he regained his balance. "Bluestreak, what have I told you about throwing yourself at people like that?" he scolded.

The youngling furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. "Only do it when you're not around," he replied hesitantly, then frowned. "No, wait, that's what Sides told me." Prowl sighed in defeat as Jazz chuckled. "Close enough."

Prime watched the small family interact with fond amusement. It was always a treat when Bluestreak slipped past the watchful eye of his tutor to find his parents. The youngling was a little ray of light in the dark times that they were in. It would be a pity when the plans to send him to a safer, less militarily active city went into effect. Many of the warriors had grown fond of him.

He didn't want to think about the effect the absence would have on the youngling's parents. It was, however, necessary. It was no longer safe for sparklings and younglings to be kept in Iacon. Prime sincerely hoped that peace would come soon so the separation would not last long.

ooooooooooooo

The transport ship awaited him, but Bluestreak didn't want to board it. He clung to his parents' hands as tightly as he could, hoping to delay the moment of separation for as long as possible.

Jazz reached down to stroke the youngling's head reassuringly. "It's time to go, Blue," he murmured softly, sadness glaringly obvious in his usually cheerful voice. Bluestreak shook his head franticly in denial.

"No! I don't want to go! I want to stay with you," he cried, jerking back away from the ship. His left hand slipped from Jazz's grip, but Prowl's firm hold kept him from retreating further. The tactician knelt down before the youngling, drawing him into his strong arms as he stood again.

Bluestreak wrapped himself around his father as much as he could as his dad stroked his back soothingly, crooning soft words of comfort until the sobs stopped. Jazz was warm gentleness while Prowl was strength and steadiness.

"Bluestreak," Prowl spoke calmly, gaining his youngling's attention. "I know you don't want to leave, and we don't want you to leave either. However, it is for your own safety. It is too dangerous for you to remain in Iacon any longer. We don't want you to get hurt." The last part was but a whisper, the only way the tactician would show how much the thought of his youngling coming to harm hurt.

Bluestreak's door wings drooped in misery. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't want his parents to worry for him either. He looked between them, still uncertain. "We…we'll see each other again, won't we?"

"Of course we will," Jazz exclaimed with cheerful certainty. Prowl gave a gentle smile that he reserved only for his mate and his youngling. "Most certainly. We will attempt to visit as often as possible, and you'll be back with us again as soon as it has been deemed safe."

Bluestreak perked up at that, trying to put on a brave face. "I guess if it isn't permanent, it'll be okay," he said, forcing his wings steady and straight in an attempt to imitate his proud father. He only succeeded in looking really cute though, judging by his dad's amused grin.

A final call for boarding broke the brief levity and Prowl reluctantly set the youngling back on his feet. Final hugs and goodbyes were exchanged before Jazz gave Bluestreak a gentle push towards the ship's entry. He took off in a run, refusing to look back until he was inside the ship. If he did, he wouldn't be able to leave.

Once inside the entrance, Bluestreak turned around to get a last look at his parents before the door closed. It would be the last time he would see them for a long time.

ooooooooooooo

They stared after the transport ship long after it had left their sight, arms around each other. Jazz sigh, resting his head on Prowl's shoulder as he asked, "Think he'll be okay?"

The tactician was quiet for a moment as he thought carefully about his answer. "Dursa is a city of no strategic importance. It should be safe from Decepticon attack. Also, the femme that he will be staying with is a trusted associate of Ratchet. He couldn't be in better hands. And of course he is very resilient. He'll adapt to his new surroundings soon enough and we'll be getting transmissions detailing his exciting new exploits within an orn," he replied honestly.

Jazz snorted at that. "You always cover all the bases, don't ya'," he said dryly. He looked his mate right in the optics, his expression serious. "You're absolutely certain he's going to be safe?"

Prowl leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Jazz's lips, then murmured, "I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2: Hope and Pray

Title: Picture

Chapter: Ch. 2 – Hope and Pray

Author: SBX

Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Ironhide, and the Twins

Pairings: ProwlxJazz

Rating: PG

Warnings: AU, angst-fest ahead

Disclaimer: No character used in this story belongs to me except for Skysong who was only mentioned briefly.

Summary: The picture of a perfect family torn apart.

A/N: Angst. I like angst. Think it's bad now? You just wait, it'll get worse from here. But probably not for a while because I've got a chapter of Comfort Calling Late to write and fics for the prowlxjazz Christmas challenge to work on. Thankfully with winter holiday coming up I should have more time to write.

* * *

Dursa was in ruins. Skysong and Barricade were dead, one with her spark ripped from her chest, the other purposefully and painfully dismantled. _Bluestreak was missing._ And Ratchet hadn't felt guiltier about anything in his life.

Prowl and Jazz weren't blaming him for the probable loss of their son, but then they didn't have to. Ratchet blamed himself entirely, for it was his recommendation to send the youngling to the neutral city to stay with his old colleague and her brother. Being a neutral city, Dursa hadn't enough defenses to fight off the sudden, inexplicable Decepticon attack. So far no survivors had been found, and though they tried to keep hope the Autobots knew that the likelihood of finding Bluestreak alive were minimal.

'_Primus, let the boy still be alive,'_ the medic prayed. _'I don't think his parents will be able to handle it if he isn't.'_

ooooooooooooo

Prime was starting to worry about the mental health of his officers. Ratchet was descending into depression due to guilt. Prowl was Pit-bent on working himself into the ground, at times refusing recharge and energon. Optimus feared he might have to relieve his SIC of his position if this trend continued.

He had already had to do so with Jazz. The Special Ops Agent may have truly lost his mind with grief. He went into fits of hysterics at the slightest provocation. He would sneak into the ruined city by himself to search for his son on his own and not return unless someone literally dragged him back kicking and screaming.

And it just got worse until Jazz finally crossed the line when he suddenly attacked his own mate, screaming curses and accusations. Prowl had just taken the beating, not even bothering to defend himself. It took the combined strength of Prime, Ironhide, and the Twins to pull the saboteur away from his victim and subdue him enough for Ratchet to sedate.

Jazz was now curled up in a holding cell, refusing to speak with anyone, and Prowl was comatose in the temporary med bay that had been set up in case of survivors. It was the only use the med bay had gotten in the five orns they had been in Dursa.

Red Alert sent constant transmissions from Autobot headquarters, ranting about what a compromise of security it was to have over a quarter of the army searching for one youngling.

"I'm sorry to say this, sir, but while we have so much of our forces looking for one child the Decepticons could attack another city and we wouldn't have enough soldiers to stop them from slaughtering more innocent civilians," Red Alert had argued. It was one of the rare times that their security director was right on all accounts.

But it wasn't just one youngling at stake. If they lost Bluestreak, they'd lose his parents as well. Jazz was already mostly gone and Prowl wasn't far behind no matter how well he hid it. It they didn't get that one youngling back then the Autobots would lose two of their best officers and they could not afford that.

Optimus hoped and prayed to Primus that they could find the boy, for everyone's sakes.

ooooooooooooo

Prowl moved through the containment block with a grace and stealth that made his name well chosen. He did everything in his ability to avoid detection. He had left the field med bay against Ratchet's direct orders and to be caught would mean inciting the medic's infamous temper.

The tactician reached the cell he was searching for and looked in. The sight he found was spark breaking. His mate sat huddled in the far corner of the cell, hugging his legs to his chest, and a lost, far away, expression on what was visible of his face. The once proud, exuberant Special Ops Agent had become the very picture of a broken mech.

And Prowl had done nothing to stop it.

He wanted to take it all back now. The decision to send their son away. The confident boasts of how safe he would be. The pain Bluestreak must have felt at the hands of the Decepticons and the pain Jazz was feeling now. He wanted to take it all away and make things as they were. He wanted to make them all happy again.

But he couldn't. Prowl could only try to make up for his mistakes at best as he could, starting here and now.

"Jazz," he called softly, hoping to gain his mate's attention without notifying anyone else of his presence. Jazz's head jerked up and in Prowl's direction, startled. This in itself was a clear indication of how badly the current crisis was affecting the saboteur's perceptions. Under normal circumstances nobody would have ever been able to sneak up on him.

"Prowl, what…" Jazz whispered before trailing off as he saw for the first time the damage that had been done. While all of the life threatening injuries have been taken care of there was enough evidence to show that the tactician had been beaten to within an inch of his life. One of his optics was cracked and useless, a door wing was completely missing, and his right arm was strapped to his side to keep the broken pieces of its infrastructure from moving and grating together. Not to mention all of the cracks, gashes, and dents in his armor.

Jazz was so sickened by the sight of what he had done to his mate that he had to turn away. "Primus, Prowl, you should be in med bay. If Ratchet finds out…" he started to say, but the sound of the cell door opening and closing made him freeze, the words catching in his vocalizer and choking him.

Prowl was now in the cell with him, and nothing terrified him more. The tactician did not need to be anywhere close to him while his emotions were so uncontrollable. He didn't want to hurt his mate again.

The tactician approached and knelt before his attacker without fear or hesitation. Jazz shied away as Prowl reached forward and gently trailed his free hand across his cheek.

"Jazz," he murmured, tone beseeching, "Jazz, please look at me." Jazz did so reluctantly, meeting his mate's optics and nearly looked away again at the emotions that hid there. Sorrow, desperation, self-loathing, and overlaying all of that was a deep physical, mental and emotional exhaustion. Prowl too was one misstep away from falling apart.

"Jazz, I," the tactician faltered, for once uncertain of how to proceed. There was silence for several moments before a fierce determination swiped away all of the other emotions.

"Jazz, I'll bring him back, I promise. I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I will bring Bluestreak back to us. Nothing else matters. I'll rip out my own spark if that's what it takes. I will bring him home."

Prowl moved to stand but Jazz wouldn't let him. Spurred by a sudden fear for his mate's well being he grasped him by his good arm and pulled him closer and into his arms. "No, no love, don't talk like that," Jazz pleaded, "I couldn't stand it if I lost you both."

The tactician was at a loss for what to say. He didn't want to cause his mate any more anguish than what he felt now, but he couldn't stop, couldn't rest until their son was found and safely in their arms again. All he could do was hold his mate back and offer as much comfort as he could.

ooooooooooooo

From the shadows of the corridor of the containment block Ironhide watched his fellow officers. When Ratchet had called him and Optimus to inform them that his patient had disappeared while he had taken a break for energon the old soldier had immediately went for the containment block expecting the worse. He was relieved to find them working things out, but also saddened by the intense pain they both exhibited.

Ironhide sighed as he opened up a communications link to Ratchet and Prime. "Hey, guys, I found Prowl an' he's okay. He an' Jazz are havin' a moment. I'll bring Prowl back to the med bay when he's done.

There was silence on the other end for a long moment before Prime's serious voice came of the link. "Bring Jazz as well. I think the Twins left some…unnecessary dents when we were putting Jazz in the cell. I want Ratchet to make certain they aren't serious. Also I think it will give us a good opportunity to discuss the…incident with the two of them."

Ironhide snorted at the Autobot leader's attempts at sounding diplomatic. Leave it to Prime to describe a case of assault as an 'incident.' Of course, does it count as assault if the victim wants the pain? Never the less he gave an affirmative.

Before shutting the link he listened to some of Ratchet's grumbling over the Twins creating more work for him even when they themselves weren't injured, the little slaggers.

The old soldier couldn't help but grin. The Hatchet complaining about the two banes of his existence lent a sense of normalcy to the situation that gave him hope that someday everything would be okay again.

He got the feeling that on his end of the link Prime was grinning too.

ooooooooooooo

Two orns after the 'incident' with Prowl and Jazz, after the 3IC was indefinitely relieved of his command and put under house arrest, after Prowl was released from the med bay with strict orders to take it easy unless he wanted to suffer his mate's punishment as well…the Twins found him while searching the tunnels under Dursa. Or rather, he found them. 

There had been a number of Decepticon corpses found around the outside and inside of the tunnels, giving the Autobots hope that there was a survivor that was creating the 'Cons corpses to begin with. The Twins were investigating one such corpse when the sound of a rifle charging made them freeze.

"Don't move or you're scrap."

The voice was young and shaky and familiar sounding, but not enough for either of the Twins to put a face or name to it. The shakiness of the voice didn't extend to the hold on the rifle Sunstreaker noted, looking at the mech who had gotten the jump on them out of the corner of his optics.

The mech edged sideways, moving behind the two Autobots and they knew that he would shoot them in the backs if they did anything to provoke him. "You two 'Cons?" the young mech asked, his voice cracking slightly in fear. 

Sideswipe's optics widened, then narrowed in annoyance. Sunstreaker just looked puzzled by the question. How could this little twerp mistake the Autobot's finest warriors for Decepticon?

"No, we ain't no slaggin' 'Cons," the red twin snarled, "We're Autobots, through and through." The mech behind him gave a high, vaguely hysterical laugh. "Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. Turn around slowly, hands where I can see them, and let me see your alliance insignias."

They did as they were told and whatever smart aft comments they may have made withered in their vocalizers at the sight of their attacker. He was taller than they remembered; the wings larger like his father's, his armor dented and scratched, and there was something not quite right about the look in his optics, but it was Bluestreak. Alive, thank Primus. 

There was no recognition in the youngling's optics as he studied them, but he did relax and lowered his weapon at the sight of their Autobot brands. He gave them a weak, sheepish smile in apology. "Sorry about that, but I had to be sure."

Sideswipe grinned at him in relief while his brother gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Don't worry 'bout it, Blue. We're just glad we finally found you," the red twin exclaimed, moving forward and clapping a hand on the youngling's shoulder.

Bluestreak gave him a confused look and moved away from him, uncomfortable with the touch. "How do you know my name? Do I know you?" he asked, racking his memory for anything on these two mechs in front of him. 

Sideswipe gave him a hurt look. He had thought they had made a bigger impression on the youngling than that. Sunstreaker frowned as he stepped up next to his twin. "Come on, Bluestreak, you know us. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. We use to sparkling sit you when your parents had no other alternative," he teased, using their names to trigger the boy's memory.

But Bluestreak just gave them a sad, apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I just don't remember. I don't remember a lot of things anymore, not even my family. I got shot in the head and now I get these horrible headaches and when they're gone I forget something," he murmured, looking away.

When he turned his head Sunstreaker caught a glimpse of something on the back of the youngling's head and moved to get a better look. What he saw made his spark sputter in horror. There was a large gaping hole in the back of Bluestreak's helmet, exposing his processor to the elements.

"Primus below," he breathed, just staring. "Kid, you don't know how lucky you are to be alive." Sideswipe moved to see what his twin was freaking out about and made a strangled sound. "I'm calling for Ratchet," he gasped, before moving away so he could open a com. link in private. 

"Ratchet, you hear me?"

Silence for a few Astroseconds, then Ratchet's voice answered him, sounding as grumpy as ever. "Yeah, I hear you. What do you want, Sideswipe?"

"We found Bluestreak," Sideswipe replied curtly, for once not in the mood for verbal sparing. 

The medic's response was sharp and urgent. "He's injured," he stated. There was no other reason that he would be contacted before Prime or the boy's parents. Sideswipe gave the affirmative.

"Give me your position and I'll be there ASAP," Ratchet ordered. An exchange of coordinates later and the red warrior turned back to his brother and their charge to find Bluestreak on his knees clutching his head and his mouth open in a silent scream of agony. Sunstreaker looked between the youngling and his brother in panic as if to ask, "What should I do?"

Sideswipe knelt at Bluestreak's side and wrapped his arms around him. He couldn't stop the pain, but he could give the youngling comfort until it was over.

"Freeze Autobots!"

The Twins stared at the lone Decepticon in disbelief and no small amount of annoyance. They were getting tired of having guns pointed at them.

The 'Con had a wild, deranged look in his optics, the look of a mech who had been terrorized beyond his ability to stand and was now going to give some of that back. And that look was leveled at the pained youngling in Sideswipe's arms.

"Step away from the youngling, Autobots," The Decepticon demanded gesturing with his gun. "The little slagger is about to become one with the matrix and you two will join him if you don't move right now!"

The Twins' only response was for Sideswipe to pull Bluestreak closer while Sunstreaker stood between them and the 'Con. The Decepticon sneered a their stubborn courage and shifted his aim to gun down the yellow warrior.

He never got the chance. A barrage of acid pellets ripped through him, making his body jerk in a disturbing, unnatural way. The body hit the ground, revealing the mech who had saved them.

Prowl stood there in all his glory. His gun was still up, smoke trailing from the barrel, his door wings pulled up and back in a subconscious attempt to make himself appear bigger and more intimidating, and his optics burned with a possessive fury that would have frightened the Twins had they not been so glad to see him.

The sound of footsteps running reached their audios. Moments later Ratchet and Ironhide came stumbling up behind the tactician, wheezing. "Prowl, you slagger," Ratchet gasped out, "Couldn't you have waited for us?" 

Prowl ignored Ratchet's question, and approached the three mech he had rescued. He knelt in front of Sideswipe and Bluestreak, reaching his hand out to carefully stroke the youngling's head, avoiding coming too close to the hole. "Bluestreak," he murmured, relief plain on his faceplates.

Bluestreak stared back in confusion before a hint of recognition flashed in his optics. "F-father?" he stuttered. His uncertainty made his father frown. Didn't his son know him?

Sideswipe caught his optics, giving him a grim look. "Something's wrong with his CPU, sir. Said he's been losing his memories," he said. As if to prove his point the youngling gave a moan of pain, clutching at his head again.

Prowl made a sound of distress before calling Ratchet over. The medic was by his side in an Astrosecond, already running scans. What he found was disturbing on so many levels.

"Primus," he breathed, horror in his voice, "It's a miracle he's still alive. His CPU took so much damage that his memory is slowly corrupting itself. If the process isn't stopped soon then there will be nothing left." Ratchet looked up and gave everyone present a fierce look. "We need to get him to my med bay now."

None of the warriors present had to be told twice. Sideswipe helped Prowl gather Bluestreak into his arms to carry him. Ironhide and Sunstreaker readied their weapons and moved to lead the way. Primus help any Decepticon that got in their way.

Bluestreak just curled into his father's chest, seeking comfort from this mech that a shadow of a memory told him was familiar. He didn't know who these people were, but he hoped they would make the pain go away.


	3. Chapter 3: Home

Title: Picture

Chapter: Ch. 3 - Home

Author: SBX

Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, mention of others

Pairings: ProwlxJazz, mention of MoonracerxOFC and Bluestreakx??

Rating: PG

Warnings: AU, angst-fest ahead

Disclaimer: No character used in this story belongs to me except Bebop and Skysong. Betaed by the lovely Okami Myrrhibis.

Summary: The picture of a perfect family torn apart.

A/N: Tried finishing chapter 7 of CCL, but it didn't want to be finished quite yet so I decided to come back to Picture by popular demand.

The whole chapter is written from Bluestreak's POV with little flashbacks from his time in Dursa in the form of transmissions to his parents. If you guys can figure out what the Autobots have decided to do about Blue's loss of memory without it having to be spelled out for you then you win a hundred internets. And a cookie for whoever can guess Blue's mystery crush. :D

They all stare at me, and I can't quite bring myself to ask them to stop. Some of them act like they know me even though I don't know them. Then again, I don't know a lot of things anymore, not even myself.

My last clear memories were of a pale blue femme (Skysong) and a black and white mech with the optics of a Decepticon but not the attitude (Barricade).

Skysong died. I remember the triple changer ripping her spark out and her scream of pain will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I remember Barricade hiding a data disk inside of my spark casing then pressing a rifle into my hands and telling me to run. I'm pretty certain Barricade is dead now too.

Anything before or after that was an incomprehensible blur and the medic that had made the head aches go away said that I might never remember the things I have forgotten.  
It hurt to think of how much I have lost, but not as much as the look on the visored mech's face. He hugged me when I first came in and cried my name over and over again. I didn't have the spark to tell him I don't know his.

_ooooo_

_Hey, dad! How are you and father doing? That's good. Yeah, I'm doing okay. I miss you guys though and everybody else back at home. Yes, Skysong and Barricade are very nice. Barricade is stern just like father is. _

_  
What? Friends? Not yet. There is this femme my age who I've spoken with a few times, but I don't know her well enough yet to be friends. Her name's Bebop. What?! Dad, no! That's gross! I'm too young to be interested in femmes like that._

_  
...She has a crush on this other femme named Moonracer anyway. She's older and real pretty so I can't blame Bebop for liking her. _

__

What? You gotta go so soon? Oh, alright. I love you, and make sure father knows that I love him too. And tell the Twins not to get into too much trouble without me, okay? Good.

Oh, and dad? When can I come home?

ooooo

I think they're lying to me. Why I don't know, but I know they are. The medic (Ratchet, got to start remembering people's names) wouldn't look me in the optics when he said they don't know who or where my creators are.

That doesn't make any sense; they knew me, why wouldn't they know my creators? The visored mech (Jazz, ya glitch head, you need to remember) avoids me now when before Ratchet had trouble keeping him away from me. And the mech with the door wings that looks so much like me (Prowl or Prowler?) was almost cold to me now. Only Prime and the Twins (Sunny and Sides? No those are their nicknames) treated me the same.

It was all very strange, or at least I think it's strange, I really don't have a reference for what's normal. I keep asking questions, keep trying to find out how all these Autobots know me but I don't know them and all I get are vague answers or no answers at all and it's all so very frustrating.

I've tried researching on my own but the security chief (Red-something or other) had what Ironaft (Ironhide! Hide! Stop listening to Sides) called a conniption fit of the Very Serious Kind when I accessed the Autobot's computer systems. Prime politely asked me to not do that again without permission. I don't think they trust me yet, even though Sunny (Sunstreaker, he doesn't like being called Sunny) said that Red is like that with everyone.

I'm starting to wonder if I should stay here. I'm not learning anything about myself that I didn't already know. The Autobots don't trust me; some don't even seem to like me. I miss Skysong and Barricade and Dursa and what little I can remember about them.  
I just want to go home.

ooooo

_Hello, father! You're not too busy right now, are you? I didn't get to talk to you last time...You're not? That's great!_

_  
Yes, sir, I'm behaving myself. Yes, sir, Skysong and Barricade are still treating well. Are you and dad going to ask me these same questions every time I send a transmission? I know you guys worry, but Ratchet wouldn't have recommended this place if I wouldn't be safe. _

_  
Yes, it is illogical to worry, but you're my creator and you care about me so I guess I can let it slide. Just don't let dad know. _

_  
Who, Bebop? Dad told you about her? That snitch. No I don't like her like that. Or Moonracer. We are getting to be really good friends though._

_  
How is everybody back home? The same? That tells me absolutely nothing. Sides and Sunny got injured? Fighting 'Cons or 'Bots? A prank?! Bet Ratchet was hopping mad. _

_  
Have you guys fought any Decepticons lately? Tyger Pax? Oh, I heard about that. Did we lose very many soldiers? I know I'm too young to be worrying about that but I can't help it! I have friends and family in the Autobots, I can't help but worry. _

__

I know, I'm sorry for yelling. I just miss you guys. Father, when can I come home?

_ooooo_

I can't seem to recharge properly, images of Dursa and its people ravaged and in pieces haunting my nightmares. I try so hard to remember a time when I had pleasant dreams but like everything else, those memories are gone. It seems that everything I do is a reminder of how much I have lost.

With nothing else to do I left my assigned quarters and explore the parts of the base I'm allowed access to. I'm sure Red Alert is watching my every move from the monitor room but as long as I don't do something I'm not supposed to he leaves me alone.

I haven't had much time to look around before so it's really no surprise to find that I'd gotten myself lost. Ratchet is going to blow a circuit if he checks up on me and finds me gone.

I didn't even realize that I'd wondered into the officers' barracks until I stumbled across Jazz huddled against a door looking about as miserable as I felt. I almost went back the way I came from, it would be rude to intrude on his pain, but he saw me before I could turn around.

"Hey Blue, what're you doing up so late?" Jazz asked, forcing a cheerful smile on his face. I don't like it; it doesn't look right on his face.

"Couldn't sleep," I murmured, approaching cautiously. I can't forget that he's been avoiding me and I wonder if my presence is welcome. "Why are you sitting out here?"

Jazz gave me a sad smile as he patted the ground next to him, obviously asking me to sit. So he wants my company after all. "It's kinda complicated, but basically boils down to Prowler getting' tired of all my slag and throwin' me out of our room."

I cock my head to the side curiously at that. "You two are room mates?" I asked in confusion. They seemed to not get along very well for roommates.

Jazz gave me an amused look. "So close, yet so far. We're bond mates. We've been havin' some problems lately."

I think about this new information for a few astroseconds and compare it with what I've already seen about Jazz and Prowl. "These problems have something to do with me don't they?"

Jazz tensed up beside me and I had my answer. Then he relaxed and gave me a wry smile. "Smart kid, they kinda have something to do with you. And before you start feelin' all guilty it has nothing to do with anything you did or didn't do or anything like that."

I gave a puzzled look but before I could ask him to continue he started talking again. "Me an' Prowl had a youngling that we sent to Dursa because it was supposed to be safer than Iacon." Here he gave a short, bitter bark of laughter and my spark lurched in apprehension. I could see where this was going.

"He was livin' in Dursa when it was attacked. He..." here Jazz's voice caught, the pain almost too much for him to bear. He looks at me with the most agonized expression I'd ever seen. "You know...you look a lot like him."

I can't stop myself from hugging him after that and he hugs me back. We've both lost something important and we both need the comfort that the other is offering even as we seek it.

Prowl found us like this a breem later. He just stares for the longest time and Jazz fidgets nervously. Finally he can't seem to take the silence anymore. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I know I've been impossible the past few orns."

Prowl sighed at that and kneeled before the two of us. He reaches out to stroke Jazz's cheek and Jazz leans into the touch with a contented smile. It was an incredibly intimate moment and I feel uncomfortable witnessing it, especially since Jazz still has me in a loose hug.

All of a sudden everything is okay between them and I get the feeling they're communicating in a way that I can't perceive.

Prowl leans forward and gives Jazz a gentle kiss and now I feel really uncomfortable and just a little bit lonely. I can't remember ever getting that kind of affection.

Prowl then looks at me and I feel like he's measuring me somehow. I guess I wasn't found wanting because he smiles at me and says, "Welcome to the family."

Jazz grins at both of us at that and this one looks right because it's genuine and I smile back. It's the first time I've smiled since Dursa.

_ooooo_

_Hey, Dad. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just a little upset. My teacher got 'let go'. I don't know, something about gambling. I know that's serious but he was a good teacher and it never really never let it interfere with his teaching. No one even knew until that glitch Cliffjumper snitched. _

_  
No I'm not gonna tell you his name. I heard he's decided to join the Autobots and I don't want you and father hassling him. _

_  
Hm? Oh, my new teacher. I don't know how but Skysong managed to talk Barricade into subbing until the school finds someone else. Yeah, he's a good teacher, though not a lot of the other kids like him because he's so strict. He doesn't treat me different from the other students so don't worry about that. _

_  
Heh, how did I know you'd eventually ask about Bebop and Moonracer? No I'm still not interested in either of them. I like somebody else. No I'm not gonna tell you who. Cause he's too old for me and nothing will ever come of it and I don't want you to beat him up. _

_  
...How did you-? No, wait, I forgot who I was talking to, of course you figured it out. Dad, it's just a crush and it's not like he'll ever feel the same. _

_  
Could you not tell father? I don't want him to think differently about me. Thanks dad._


End file.
